


O, Licentia!

by demetyr



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Please Forgive me, What Have I Done, Why Did I Write This?, cross-posted from FF.Net, dude it's such a trope, humans as pets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-16 02:07:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10561612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demetyr/pseuds/demetyr
Summary: In a different time and place, Autobots have no idea of the sentience of their human pets - and the Decepticons don't care."You can protect your liberties in this world only by protecting the other man's freedom. You can be free only if I am free." – Clarence Darrow





	1. domestication

**Author's Note:**

> Little drabbles/one shots of an AU that may or may not eventually tie together relatively cohesively. I dunno. They're all pretty much connected and leading up to this one particular scene I have in mind. Yeah.

* * *

_It is a strange desire, to seek power, and to lose liberty; or to seek power over others, and lose power over a man’s self.  – Francis Bacon, Sr._

* * *

 

     It was over before it began. And when it was over, it left everyone bewildered. Everyone – except the giant robots with red eyes. Pockets of resistance remained, scattered across the globe. Amazingly, Earth was relatively unharmed by her extraterrestrial visitors – by her alien conquerors. However, this was not the main focus of humanity. Humanity was more concerned with the fact that these giant robots seemed to view them as little more than exotic animals; exotic animals with a minimal intelligence that allowed them to perform menial tasks of servitude.

     And so it came that the human race became little more than exotic servants to the alien mechanoid one. They were systematically collected; by sex, by race, by age, occasionally by displayed talents. Once collected, they were separated again within each original division – male and female, grouped by age and race. And from there, they were shipped to a place the robots called ‘Cybertron’.

     But again, pockets of resistance remained. Humans who wanted to fight back joined these resistance groups, working to free others from the collection cages, to keep some humans from even being noticed by the ‘domestication squads’. The tensions quickly escalated to the point where the domestication squads traveled with what were obviously soldier robots, solely intended to engage with the human resistance factions.

     It was a bloody struggle.

     And far away on Cybertron, hardly anyone even knew that the new, wonderfully fascinating tiny organic beings were there against their wills. The idea of their sentience was dismissed, though the occasional mech would proclaim with pride that his human was particularly intelligent for a pet.


	2. peanuts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I’ve got an OC. I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I just… I cannot, in any sense of character honesty, see Sam or Mikaela or Miles or any of the others doing what she does. Not to say that this is entirely about her, oh no! She just… well, she fits. And I needed somebody for the role.

* * *

_Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves.  ~Abraham Lincoln_

* * *

 

     He met her on the shuttle.

     “So. What you in for?” Sam asked, attempting to toss the joke flippantly, even though he could hear his own voice shaking. “And didn’t they have us separated by sex?” he asked, blinking as he noticed that the ‘young man’ he’d been talking had, um, curves.

     “I thought I’d take a walk,” she said, shrugging as she turned to look at him. “And I guess the robots aren’t as bright as they think,” she added with a forced lightness. “Shapeless clothing, short hair, and purely male company? I don’t think they were really looking.”

     Sam nodded, though he was still a little lost. Giant robots couldn’t tell the difference between the sexes? Weird.

     “You?” she asked.

     “Uh,” Sam said, “I was looking for Mojo.”

     “Mojo?”

     “Um.” Sam could feel a light flush crawl up his cheeks. “My dog.”

     “You managed to _keep_ your dog?” the girl asked, surprised. “I thought the regulations said nothing non-essential could be brought to the bases.”

     Sam shrugged, and gave a rueful laugh. “Yeah, try telling my mom that the family Chihuahua is unnecessary. She considers that thing to be her second baby.”

     A suppressed (and slightly hysterical) giggle escaped Sam’s companion, and it dawned on Sam in that moment that he didn’t know whom he was sitting next to.

     “Sam Witwicky,” he said, bumping her shoulder. He got a chortle and a shoulder bump in return.

     “Anya Reynolds.”

     “I would say nice to meet you, but…” Sam trailed off.

     “It’s kind of hard to be pleased about much when you’ve been kidnapped by giant alien robots,” Anya said, nodding. They shook hands anyways, and offered each other grim smiles as they settled in.

     “So do you think there will be in-flight peanuts?” Anya asked after several minutes, loud enough to be heard by the majority of the people held with them. Some stared at her in confusion or shock, but several laughed (though there was a slightly desperate tinge to it).

     “Are you kidding? You know what airline food service is like,” Sam quipped back, a ricture of a smile on his face. There was a similar grim expression on Anya’s, even as she quirked a corner of her mouth in a smile.

     “You’re right,” she said. “Even if we do get something, it probably won’t be any good.”

     The two fell silent after that, along with their ‘companions’, as the dark double edge of that statement sunk in.

     “This sucks,” Sam said after several long moments.

     “You’re telling me,” Anya agreed, slouching against the bulkhead. Silence fell again, and moments later Anya would swear that she’d heard Sam mutter something about a ‘Mikaela.’

     “Girlfriend?” Anya asked quietly. Sam jolted next to her, and moved his shoulders in embarrassment.

     “Um. No. Not my girlfriend, not really, she’s just a girl, y’know? Just a girl that I – ” Sam babbled.

     “Sam. You’re babbling.”

     “Oh.” Sam clamped his mouth shut. “Uh, sorry.”

     “So not your girlfriend, but you wish she was?” Anya’s voice was sly, and faintly teasing.

     “What! No, I mean, um, y’know she – yeah, I guess so, but – no, that’s not what I meant, I just hope she’s safe, that’s all!”

     “Sam. I am sitting next to you, in the dark, in the underbelly of an alien robot slaver ship, heading to God knows where. And even _I_ can tell you’re ass over teakettle for this girl.”

     “Who says ‘ass over teakettle’ anymore?” Sam asked in reply, and after a moment, the two dissolved into hysteric-tinged laughter.


	3. strange lands

* * *

  _Though the flame of liberty may sometimes cease to shine, the coal can never expire. – Thomas Paine_

* * *

 

 

     Cybertron was brighter than they’d imagined.

     “Well, it _is_ made of metal,” Sam muttered when Anya remarked on the brightness.

     “We’ve been in a space dungeon for how long? I don’t care if it’s made of fluorescent light bulbs – ”

     “Shh!” Sam hissed at her, hearing the pounding steps of metal feet coming closer. Anya’s hand tightened almost crushingly around Sam’s, and though he was pretty sure his fingers were going to snap, he didn’t pull away.

     The door to the humans’ ‘dungeon’ slid open with a soft _shwsh_ , revealing not the one robot the group of humans had become grudgingly accustomed to, but two strange robots who surveyed the gathered cluster of humanity.

     Sam felt a shiver crawl up his spine, and tightened his own fingers around Anya’s hand as the two robots clicked and whirred and beeped at each other in their language. There was something about these two that just made his skin crawl. Anya apparently felt the same way about them, if the way she was eyeing the two was any clue.

     Sam had been noticing odd mannerisms about Anya lately; she’d seemed to be a little lost. Then again, Sam didn’t really want to think about how she was reacting to this whole fiasco since he knew that _he_ wasn’t taking it very well, himself. Could you blame anyone for acting a little strange when you’d been intergalactically kidnapped by _freakin’ alien robots?!_

     Sam was jolted out of his thoughts by the scream.

     “What – ” he cried, as Anya tugged on his hand.

     “The robots!” she cried back to him over the rising noise of human panic, her voice tinged with the beginnings of its own hysteria. Sam looked up – and saw that the two new robots were scooping up what humans they could grab and dropping them in another portable cage.

     And then Anya was plucked from Sam’s grasp.

     “Hey!” Sam cried, skidding to a stop and wheeling around.

     “Sam!” Anya shrieked, struggling to escape the grasp of the robot clutching her. “ _Sam!_ ”

     “Anya!” Sam scrambled after her, not caring that he was heading right towards humanity’s Enemy Number One.

     A series of bursting clicks sounded above him, and a detached part of Sam’s mind categorized the sound as laughter – just as he was also picked up roughly, and dropped in the cage. He rolled to his hands and knees and crawled the few feet to where Anya was huddled.

     “Anya?”

     “You _idiot_ ,” she muttered with a mix of fear and exasperated, shaky affection.


	4. collection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, there haven’t been a lot of robots so far, but it’s only two drabbles as of yet! Now the robots start showing up. Whoo. And I’m not breaking up Sam and MIkaela for Anya; no way!

* * *

  _Nothing is more difficult, and therefore precious, than to be able to decide. Napoleon Bonaparte_

* * *

 

 

     “Man, I think I can sympathize with the animals in the zoos, now,” Sam complained, watching yet another mech peruse the ‘selection’.

     “Oh yeah? Well at least zoo animals had relative freedoms,” Anya griped from her place sprawled across the cage floor.

     “Freedoms? We’re in cages! Like animals!”

     “Yeah, but at least zoo animals had toys and things to play with. Y’know, habitats and stuff. Our cages are just metal mesh and fabric padding.”

     “Okay, you have a point there,” Sam conceded. He slouched against one of the cage walls. “Dude, I could totally go for a hamster wheel right about now. I don’t care _how_ demeaning that is, ‘cuz I need some exercise.”

     “So go ask for one,” Anya grumbled.

     “Dude. Who woke up on the wrong side of the cage?” Sam asked.

     “Every side of the cage is the wrong side!” Anya yelled, violently pushing herself into an upright position. “We’re in a _cage!_ For fuck’s sake, how can any of this _not_ be  the wrong side?”

     “Hokay,” Sam said very quietly, eyes wide and hands up in a non-threatening gesture of surrender. “I am not dangerous. Please don’t hurt me?”

     Anya sighed heavily and slumped back down onto the cage padding, face-first. “Sorry, Sam,” she said, her voice muffled by the fabric. “I just… nerves, y’know? We’ve been here for I don’t know how long, with nothing to do except watch mechs come in and _buy_ us,” she said with venomous disgust - a curious tinge of resignation that Sam was sure had to be just his imagination.

     “At least we’re not separated,” Sam offered. “Well, okay, not like we’re in totally separate cages on the opposite sides of the room,” he amended at Anya’s flat stare. The robots had eventually figured out  that Anya was female, and had placed her in the appropriate enclosure. Luckily, the male and female cages were right next to each other, and the mesh  had large enough holes  in the adjoining sides that communication between the cage occupants was easy - including touch. Most of the humans  in them huddled alongside the adjoining cage sides, which happened to be on the opposite side of the cages from the water dispensers.

     “Okay,” Anya said quietly. “You’ve got a point about that. Good point.”

     A commotion at the other end of the room - near the doors - caught the attention of every human in the two cages.

      **{** _Hey! Get your useless aft over here, Dreadwind! **}**_

     The mech in charge of the humans’ care until they were purchased (most of the humans just called him The Curator; gallows humor was was about the only humor they had any more) went over to the doors, clicking and whirring at the newcomer. Humans knew enough of what passed for robot facial expressions  to recognize that the two were arguing. And those humans  who had bothered to attempt to learn the language of their captors knew that the new mech had insulted The Curator (who was apparently called _Dreadwind_ , whatever the hell kind of name that was) while asking for help.

     Such a friendly species, these robots.

      **{** _What do you want, Axer? **}**_ Dreadwind groused, clicking and beeping in irritation.

 **{** _Got you some fresh blood, Dreadwind, **}**_ Axer growled, shaking the large box in his hands. Cries and yells came form within its confines — human cries and yells.

 **{** _More of these useless fleshies? Ugh, **}**_ Dreadwind groaned, whirring loudly as he rolled his optics. **{** _At least they go for a high price, **}**_ he grumbled, reaching to take the box from Axer.

 **{** _Femmes, **}**_ Axer said without prompting. **{** _As much as we can tell from their disgustingly primitive forms. **}**_

     Dreadwind snorted in agreement. **{** _I’ll get your bounty soon as I dump ‘em with the others, **}**_ he said over one shoulder as he headed for the cages. He couldn’t be _too_ rough with the disgusting little creatures, unfortunately - the stupid things were astoundingly fragile. Bad form design, that.

     So Dreadwind opened the femme cage, inserted the box as close to the padded flooring as possible, and pressed the button that swept open the bottom, sending the occupants tumbling out, shrieking and yelling. Ugh! Such high-pitched noises!

     He turned away in deeper disgust to go get the pouch of credit chips waiting for Axer.

     Behind him, in the cages, Sam and Anya and the rest of the humans tried to calm the newcomers.


	5. new kids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now the Autobots! Er, this one isn’t a drabble, really, is it? I think it’s too long for that. OH WELL

* * *

  _Lean liberty is better than fat slavery. – John Ray_

* * *

 

 

     “I know this means giving in to the system, but man, I think I’m insulted,” Anya said one day, watching as another mech (this one with blue eyes; did they only have two eye colors in this place? Fire-heart-blue and blood-ruby-red?) paid for his new human servant-pet, plus accessories, and left.

     “What?”

     “Why?”

     Sam and Mikaela spoke at the same time, their voices blending together. Mikaela had ‘arrived’ little more than a week ago, in another one of Axer’s visits. Most of the humans in the cages had never bothered to learn the mechanoid language while on Earth, except for Sam, Mikaela, Anya, and a few others. Between the three of them, though, they could understand most of the spoken and written language. Well, to a point. Just about everyone picked up by the domestication squads knew words like ‘medic’ or ‘offline’ or curse words, and a few commands. Anyone who tried to learn more could hazard guesses about what was being said – and generally turned out to be right. Sam, Mikaela, and Anya had been quietly expanding their own vocabularies and teaching the new words and phrases to their fellows.

     “I mean, we’ve been here how long now? Er, not you Mikaela, you just got here, but I mean, Sam and me, we’ve been here at least… a long while. And no one’s bought us!”

     Sam stared.

     “You’ve finally gone crazy,” Mikaela said, shaking her head, as she reached out to feel Anya’s forehead with the back of her hand. “I wondered how long it would take.”

     “Oh be quiet,” Anya groused. “I – here comes another one.”

     “Why do we care, again?” Sam asked.

     “Because an owner is actually better than whatever passes for euthanasia around here?” Anya said innocently.

     “ _Euthanasia_?” yelped Mikaela. “What?”

     “Yeah,” Anya said. “Remember when the Curator took Robert two weeks ago? Rob never came back, and one of those scientist robots showed up.”

     A depressive silence fell between the three, and Mikaela edged closer to the mesh, reaching for Sam’s hand. “That’s…. that’s terrible. It’s inhumane!”

     “Wake up, honey,” Anya said darkly. “They _aren’t_ human. They’re bigger, they’re stronger, they’re _in charge_. They can do whatever they want,” she muttered, glaring balefully at the new mech that had just walked in the door.

     This one was smaller than many of the ones that had come through. It was also bright yellow, which was an oddity as most of the mechs they had seen had been dull tones or gray shades with a bit of black and white, and maybe blue or red or even purple splashed on. Not bright daffodil yellow.

     “Wow,” Sam said, staring at the mech. “That is… wow. I think that’s the brightest yellow I’ve ever seen.”

     “I don’t know that it’s the _brightest_ , per se,” Anya said, “but it’s definitely eye catching.”

     “Are those… racing stripes?” Mikaela asked in disbelief, staring at the black markings on the yellow mech.

     “Do giant robots even have races?” Sam wondered in response. Mikaela punched him on the shoulder, and the two grinned briefly at each other. “It looks kind of like a bumblebee with those markings,” Sam mused. “Doesn’t it?”

     “Better be careful it doesn’t sting us,” Mikaela joked half-heartedly

     “Stop flirting. We might get bought,” Anya reminded them, though she wished she didn’t have to.

     “Oh yeah,” Sam said, eyes downcast. Mikaela’s eyes also saddened. She remembered Sam from Earth – the goofy kid on the base who actually managed to cheer people up and make them laugh. She’d thought he was sweet then, and had hated it when he’d gone missing, taken by the domestication squads. She had been relieved to find a familiar face upon her own arrival, and even more relieved that that face was Sam’s.

     “The blue eyed mechs seem different from the others,” Anya mused. And then her voice changed to an odd pitch, “Guys? Maybe we should stop staring at the bumblebee mech over there.”

     “What? Why?” Mikaela asked, looking up.

     “It’s returning the favor!” Anya half-yelped, almost mesmerized by the bright blue eyes staring at her and her two friends.

     “What!” Sam and Mikaela actually did yelp, and in unison. They clutched at each other’s hands through the cage mesh, and all three of them instinctively huddled closer together.

     “Yeah, the yellow one’s staring right back at us,” Anya hissed.

     The two mechs – ‘Bumblebee’ and the Curator – clicked softly at each other, and all the while the yellow mech never took its eyes off the three humans.

     “Shit. I think money just changed hands,” Anya said, twitching from side to side as she watched the yellow and black mech hand over what looked like a handful of local currency to the Curator.

     “What?” Sam hissed, staring almost fearfully.

     “God, I swear I was just joking when I said I wanted to be bought!” Anya. “Don’t split us up!”

     “Oh my God,” Mikaela whispered, nearly crushing Sam’s hand with one of hers as her free hand twined in the back of Anya’s shirt. “Do you think it bought us? What if it only bought one of us? Oh my God,” she moaned softly.

     The rest of the cage inhabitants had stealthily – and some not so stealthily – edged away from the three that were the obvious focus of the two mechs.

     The yellow and black one began to move forward, followed by the Curator. The three humans pressed closer together.

     “Shouldn’t we stop staring?” Sam hissed.

     “I think it’s too late for that to do any good!” Anya snapped back, pressing back against Mikaela, as if she could somehow press the other girl through the mesh and into Sam’s arms. Not that she would actually be safe there, but that kind of action might convince the mech to keep those two together.

     The yellow and black mech stood next to both cages, the Curator to its left. There was a hand motion, some more clicking, beeping, and whirring of gears, and then finally a nod before both the Curator and the bumblebee mech reached out, flipped open the top of the cages, and reach in to scoop out Sam, Mikaela, and Anya.

     “Oh my God oh my God oh my God,” Mikaela muttered under breath, trying to keep herself under control. All three of them were freaking out slightly, and trying not to give in to their fight or flight responses. Which was really, really hard.

     “Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic,” Anya kept chanting, not bothering to be overly quiet. “For the love of God, don’t actively panic!”

     “Not helping!” Mikaela called from her place in the Curator’s other hand.

     “Can you think of anything else?” Anya said. “I’d be happy to hear other ideas!”

     “Just – oh my God. Oh my God oh my God oh my God.” Mikaela began to lightly hyperventilate, staring at the carrier cage that the yellow mech and the Curator were putting them in. “Oh my God! Oh my God! We’ve been _bought_!”

     “No shit, Sherlock!” Anya snapped.

     “Hey!” Sam called from the hands of the bumblebee mech. “Stop fighting! It’s not going to help us much!”

     “Then what – _Sam_!” Mikaela half-shrieked, when the bumblebee mech appeared to drop Sam in the carrier. She shrieked again when the Curator really did drop her and Anya in the carrier immediately after.

     The mesh door closed with a soft sound – almost no sound at all, and yet the three could not help but hear the sound of an unknown future descending upon them.

 


	6. meet the family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...okay, so I tried to do a thing where the dialogue for any of the Transformers when speaking in the various Cybertronian languages was demarcated with the little fancy brackets so hopefully that actually comes through...
> 
> ALSO. There's really no reason that mechs back on Cybertron would know that their organic pets are called "humans". Mostly because, well, "human" is a _human word for ourselves_. Whiiiiiich would count as a sign of sentience, our knowing and providing the label of our entire species. And it's not known that humans are sentient. Thus... mechs don't call us humans. Yet? I dunno. I'm thinking about this way harder than I probably should be, ahahaha. It's a fic, not a dissertation.

* * *

  _A lie cannot live. – Martin Luther King, Jr._

* * *

  

   Optimus stared bemusedly down at his scout, who was hiding something behind his back, optics glittering with a happy mischief.

 ** _{_** _Bumblebee,_ ** _}_**  the Prime rumbled,  ** _{_** _what exactly have you got there?_ ** _}_**

   The yellow scout mech chirped excitedly, optics brightening,  ** _{_** _A surprise!_ ** _}_**

 ** _{_** _A surprise?_ ** _}_**  Optimus repeated, raising one optic ridge.

 ** _{_** _Yes,_ ** _}_**  the scout said. He brought carefully his hands from his back, revealing the carrier he held.  ** _{_** _Organics!_ ** _}_**

 ** _{_** _Say what?_ ** _}_**  called Ratchet from across the room, looking up from the text he'd been downloading.

 ** _{_** _Organics. The new bipedal ones,_ ** _}_**  Bumblebee repeated with a chirp, holding up the carrier.

 ** _{_** _Organics? As in, more than one?_ ** _}_**  Ratchet asked with a rise of his optic ridges. Bumblebee ducked his head in slight embarrassment, though he made sure not to jostle the carrier.

 ** _{_** _I did not want to break them up,_ ** _}_**  the scout mech admitted.  ** _{_** _I was not sure if they were a tri-unit, and I did not wish to err._ ** _}_**

 ** _{_** _How many did you end up with?_ ** _}_**  Optimus asked, eyeing the carrier with no little curiosity. There hadn't been much that interested the yellow mech except scouting – until these bipedal organic creatures.

**_{_ ** _Er, three._ **_}_ **

**_{_** _Three?_ ** _}_**  half-bellowed Ratchet. Noise came from the carrier that sounded like raised voices.

 ** _{_** _They acted like a triad,_ ** _}_**  Bumblebee said in his defense, hugging the carrier close.  ** _{_** _And do not yell – you will upset and frighten them!_ ** _}_**

   Ratchet shrugged in a silent apology.

 ** _{_** _May we see them?_ ** _}_**  Optimus asked. He had yet to see a bipedal organic, himself. His duties kept him far too busy to go out with no particular purpose than to find a pet.

   Bumblebee nodded, and moved towards the nearest clear table. He set the carrier down gently, clicking at the organic creatures in what he hoped was a comforting manner as he reached for the locks at the top of the carrier. It had a removable top in addition to the traditional 'door', which made for easier – and safer – loading. The bipedal organics were small, yes, but not terribly tiny. And they were so fragile, with their soft flesh, that being able to gently lower them into the carriers was generally preferred to pushing them in through the carrier door.

   Bumblebee flicked the locks open, and slowly removed the top as he motioned for Optimus Prime and Ratchet to come closer.

 ** _{_** _See?_ ** _}_**  Bumblebee said, pointing at the three.  ** _{_** _They act like a triad. Or at least some kind of familial unit. See how the one femme clings to the male as they both sit, and the other femme is standing in front of them?_ ** _}_**

 ** _{_** _Indeed,_ ** _}_**  Optimus murmured.  ** _{_** _How will you care for them, Bumblebee? You have duties of your own to attend to, and adding in three organics may be more than even you are capable of._ ** _}_**

   A pause. Then,  ** _{_** _Permission to speak freely, sir?_ ** _}_**

   Optimus nodded.

**_{_ ** _Sir, it is in my coding to observe. That is what I am programmed to do – scout, and observe. And I have discovered an inability to completely disregard my programming, even in civilian situations._ **_}_ **

**_{_ ** _Bumblebee –_ **_}_ **

**_{_ ** _Sir. You do not say it, but I have seen it. You are… lonely._ **_}_ **

   Optimus gazed at Bumblebee in silence, wondering again at the skill of this young scout – for even Optimus himself had not consciously recognized his loneliness for what it really was. Ratchet quietly busied himself elsewhere, even as he shamelessly listened in.

 ** _{_** _And if I am, Bumblebee? I have responsibilities that do not necessarily allow for civilian leisures,_ ** _}_**  Optimus said gently. Bumblebee nodded.

**_{_ ** _Yes, sir. But I would offer you a companion._ **_}_ **

**_{_** _A companion?_ ** _}_**  Optimus repeated, interest flooding his circuits. The scout nodded again.  ** _{_** _Bumblebee?_ ** _}_**

 ** _{_** _I truly was looking for an organic of my own,_ ** _}_**  Bumblebee said.  ** _{_** _I was not sure how to pick the right one, but in the end, they appeared to choose me. And, as you say, three may be more than I can successfully provide for. Yet I could not find it in my processors to split them that finally, sir._ ** _}_**

 ** _{_** _What does this have to do with me, Bumblebee?_ ** _}_**  Optimus asked, gently but firmly.

 ** _{_** _They_ are _triad of some kind, sir. But they do not appear to be a_ mated _triad. It is clear that two of them are very much a pair, and as such…I have left her nameless, sir,_ ** _}_**  Bumblebee said simply, reaching into the carrier to lift out the femme standing before the pair. The two recoiled at first, but scrambled forward as Bumblebee lifted her. They clung to each other and stared upward, following the scout mech's hands with their gaze.

 ** _{_** _You are giving me an organic?_ ** _}_**  Optimus said, flashing his optics twice in surprise.

**_{_ ** _Yes._ **_}_ **

**_{_** _Bumblebee,_ ** _}_**  the Prime sighed, even as he reached out to gently take the small creature from Bumblebee's hands and bring it up for a better view. The creature recoiled slightly as Optimus brought her close to his face, and so he lowered his hands, very much aware of the surprisingly heavy gaze trained on him from the tiny being in his hands.

 ** _{_** _I had thought, sir, that since they are a triad, they could perhaps be housed here in the Unit's barracks,_ ** _}_**  Bumblebee continued.  ** _{_** _I have no personal dwelling of my own, and will be here with my pair. You hardly use your personal dwelling, sir, and so they could remain in proximity to each other._ ** _}_**

 ** _{_** _It seems you have thought this through,_ ** _}_**  Optimus murmured.

 ** _{_** _It is simply another application of observation, tactics, and strategy, sir,_ ** _}_**  the yellow mech responded. His tone was deferential on the surface, but Optimus could hear the happy mischief bubbling beneath it.

 ** _{_** _I suppose this will also give me a chance to run some tests,_ ** _}_**  Ratchet mused, reinserting himself into the conversation. Bumblebee's stabilizer flaps fluttered, and he narrowed his optics at the medic-mech.

 ** _{_** _If you experiment on my organics…_ ** _}_**  He let his threat trail off. Ratchet grumbled out a gravelly laugh.

 ** _{_** _Just basic health, spark-bot,_ ** _}_**  he said.  ** _{_** _You want them to stay in good health, don't you?_ ** _}_**

**_{_ ** _Yes, of course._ **_}_ **

**_{_ ** _Then let an old repair-mech do what he can._ **_}_ **

**_{_** _Fine,_ ** _}_**  Bumblebee agreed.

   Optimus gently lowered the organic femme back into the carrier with her companions. He watched them a moment as the two hurried over to her and wrapped their limbs about her, but mostly he was fascinated by the fact that her tiny optics never left his own. The weight of her gaze was truly impressive for a being so soft and small, and it left the Autobot leader wondering:

_Was it truly possible for a non-sentient being to have a gaze that weighted?_


	7. new dogs, old tricks

  

* * *

_**What was taken by force, can only be restored by force. – Gamal Adbel Nasser** _

* * *

__

     It is one thing to know that there are other sentient species in the multi-verse. It is another thing to find one of these other sentient species. It is still yet a further thing to _go to war_ with one of them.

     In short, the Decepticons had underestimated the squishy organic fleshlings from Earth. _Vastly_ underestimated.

     The fight for Earth was no longer going in their favor. In the beginning, in the first sweeps of their Seekers and other shock troops, the humans had quailed and hid, scattering before the invading mechs like so many of the Terran insects that the Decepticons often compared them to.  The red-eyed mechs had been able to easily scoop up as many humans as they could get their grappling-servos on and ship them off back to Cybertron as exotic pets. So maybe there had been more than a few human casualties in the beginnings — look, if they were going to have no external hard-frame or any defensive-support structures, then it _wasn’t really the Decepticons’ fault_ when the stupid squishies got, well, _squished_. And _yes_ maybe there had been a handful of Decepticon researchers and scientists who wanted to see how the fleshies worked on the inside. It wasn’t a _crime_ to be _curious_ , was it? Of course not. And they’d been able to send detailed notes back with the domestication squads so that the new pets could be well taken care of back on Cybertron. The Decepticons may be entirely ruthless, but they weren’t all entirely _sparkless_. And those who were _really_ twisted had been kept away from the domestication squads after a few… incidents.

     But that did not last long. Eventually, the humans began fighting back. And fighting back _well_. They were organized in a way that the Decepticon troops had never really seen in any other organic species. It was almost as if the humans had their own internal coms systems, at times (even though the Decepticons knew that organic beings didn’t— _couldn’t_ —have internal coms). And the blasted flesh-bags had a way of turning combat situations that should have been entirely slanted to the Decepticons into complete routs. It was _infuriating_.

     It was also impressive.

     Humans had little to no stealth tech, and what they did have was certainly nowhere near approaching the level of Cybertronian technology. And yet, they managed to routinely outwit the Decepticon scanner systems and break through perimeters and cause all kinds of havoc. It had been three local years since the Cybertronian mechs had discovered this wet mudball planet, and for the last thirteen months the native sentients had effectively brought the human pet trade to an almost complete standstill! The domestication bounty for capturing any live humans to send back to Cybertron was increasing in direct proportion as the demand back home for such strange new pets also rose. With such a limited supply of the creatures, it was becoming something of a status symbol on Cybertron to be able to afford one.

     Which left most of the rank-and-file Decepticons very impressed with the dominant native species of Terra, though the officers were somewhat less impressed.

 

**———————————————**

 

     “Are you sure this will work?” hissed Epps.

     “You got a better idea?” Lennox returned.

     “Yeah, how about just killin’ all the fuckin’ robots?” muttered Figuera.

     “We’ll do that, too,” Lennox said. “But we should also, maybe, I don’t know, _try to at least think of rescue options?_ ” The glare he gave would have melted the paint job off a tank. Figuera subsided, properly shamefaced and subdued.

     “Look, man, I want to try and see if we can rescue anyone, too,” Epps said, redirecting Lennox’s focus. “But shouldn’t we focus on rescuing Earth first? Kinda hard to bring anyone home if we ain’t got a home to bring them back to.”

     “Which is why it’s a small, volunteers only mission, dumbass.”

     “And where did you find a volunteer batshit enough to step up for this?” Donnelly demanded.

     “You’re looking at him,” Lennox said.

     “Oh, fuck me,” Epps muttered, clapping his hand over his eyes and slowly dragging that hand downward.

     “Nah,” Lennox drawled. “Got better things to do.”

     “Oh, fuck _you_ ,” Epps said, dropping his hand from his face in order to punch Lennox’s shoulder.

     “My wife and I are monogamous, Epps, and not looking for a third. You know that.”

     Epps made a garbled, inarticulate noise of frustration and imminent murder. Lennox grinned at him cheekily as Figuera and Donnelly groaned and rolled their eyes.

     “Alright then! Now that we got that dog-and-pony show out of the way,” Lennox said, rubbing his hands together, “it’s time for me to pretend to be a damsel in distress and get kidnapped by a dragon.”

     “Have you really thought this through, man?” Epps asked

     “Epps…” Lennox began with a sigh.

     “No, seriously. I know this was volunteer only, but… Will, did you talk to Sarah? I mean, _really_ talk to her?” Epps’ voice was low, and Lennox felt that question hit home in the pit of his gut.

     “No one else volunteered. So I did. Sarah knows what it means to marry the military.”

     “Well, fuck this. I’m taking your spot,” Epps said. And with that, he nodded at Figuera and Donnelly, who nodded in return, and then they wrestled Lennox down.

     “What?” Lennox snapped. The shock of insubordination wore off quickly, but the moments of pause had been enough for Figuera and Donnelly to at least get Lennox on the ground. “You—!”

     “You better come get me, Lennox,” Epps said. “Or at least win here so I can steal a car and get the rest of us home.”

     “Epps, the fuck do you think you’re doing—”

     “Get a move on, dumbass, we can’t hold him for long!” Figuera grunted, trailing off into breathless Spanish expletives as Lennox thrashed below them and slammed an elbow into Figuera’s gut.

     Epps saluted smartly, then turned and jogged in the direction of a known robot camp.

     Lennox continued thrashing for a few minutes, and managed to throw Figuera and Donnelly off of him.

     “I should take you two in for insubordination,” Lennox growled as he got to his feet. He loomed over the two panting soldiers; Figuera was clutching his stomach and groaning, and Donnelly was sprawled like a starfish with limbs splayed wide, panting.

     “You should,” Donnelly agreed. “But then who’d watch your back with the robots?”

     “And then who’d bring Epps home?” Figuera added, sitting up. “Qué cabrón, Lennox, your elbows are fucking lethal.”

     “Too bad they don’t work on alien robots,” Donnelly quipped, heaving himself to his feet.

     “I dunno,” Figuera said as he, too, stood up. “We could probably make it work.”

     “I’ll deal with you two later,” Lennox growled. “Let’s go win a war.”

     “Fuckin’ A, Lieutenant Colonel,” Donnelly said, nodding.

     “De puta madre,” Figuera added.

     The three made their way back to base, ready to let the leaders of the resistance know that Phase One of the infiltration plan was on the move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am realizing that this particular AU I'm building technically recasts the Autobot/Decepticon divide as… politics. I SWEAR THIS WASN'T ON PURPOSE. I'm not sure if I'll keep the civil war in there, and I also just have serious philosophical issues with type-casting an entire group as pure irredeemable evil. Which is not to say that Decepticons, on the whole, are Good Guys™, but just that they're not all automatically super-shitty evil monsters.
> 
> …except Megatron. And Starscream. And The Fallen. And a few other select 'Cons as I need them for story purposes. Okay so maybe this STARTS as politics and ends as civil war. Dunno. Still deciding.
> 
> Let's do the time warp agaaaaain…
> 
> Also, back to Earth!
> 
> Also also: yes, humans are actually fucking terrifying. The humans in this story may have been scattered and scrambled in the immediate aftershocks of 'OMG ALIENS WTF MATE' but once we got our shit together… hoo boy. The Decepticons are not going to enjoy human resistance. Not at all.
> 
> Also also also: uh. I'm not a native Spanish speaker. I speak French. But I've got two Spanish cursing phrases in here, and I hope I'm using them correctly.


	8. cats, curiosity, satisfaction

* * *

_**Posterity: you will never know how much it has cost my generation to preserve your freedom. I hope you make good use of it. – John Quincy Adams** _

* * *

 

 

     The trip to the robot alien home-world — _Cybertron_ , really? Man, that was _definitely_ the name of a robot alien planet — was not what Epps had expected. Honestly, he had tried not to expect anything, since his method of volunteering had been a bit…unorthodox. But maybe he _should_ have had a few expectations, although really it was amusing to realize that the majority of people in this shipment were from the remnants of various Earth militaries. This did make it easier to set out mission parameters and objectives, though, and Epps wasn’t going to complain about that.

     By the time they reached Cybertron, they had the bones of a pretty solid plan to set up an underground communications system. A couple of the soldiers were comms people, and one of the few civilians—Koh Eun—had volunteered to help out with an IT set-up (apparently Eun had been some up-and-coming tech darling before the robots showed up) to piggyback on the existing robot communication lines. In fact, she’d already been able to jury-rig a low-tech equivalent of a few walkie-talkies for most of the soldiers. And for the ones she didn’t have the parts to build for, she was able to give clear instructions on how they could build their own once they’d been housed and how to tune in to the correct system frequency.

     Which meant that by the time they reached the planet, they’d pretty much been twiddling their thumbs for a few days.

     “Anybody else _really_ curious how they get between planets this easily? I mean, for us to go to Mars from Earth takes almost a year, and that’s just with unmanned orbiters,” asked Eun.

     “I’m not too sure I want to think about it,” said Mrunal, one of the soldiers.

     “Oh come on, Lieutenant Kothari,” wheedled Eun. “Have a little curiosity!”

     “You do know what happened to the cat, right?” asked another soldier, Nissim Blumenkranz. “It got too curious, and that killed it. I’d like to survive this mess, thank-you-very-much.”

     Eun snorted. “Oh, come on,” she said. “If you’re going to use that idiom, then at least finish it!”

     “Wait, there’s more?” Epps asked. “I’ve only ever heard that ‘curiosity killed the cat’.”

     “Yes,” said Nissim, “that’s the only part I know, too.”

     “Well, there’s a second part to it,” Eun said, almost smugly. “Curiosity may have killed the cat, yes, _but satisfaction brought it back!_ ” 

     “I should probably be surprised,” Epps said, “but I’m not.”

     “Yeah,” sighed Nissim. “That actually makes sense.”

     “So!” Eun said, triumphantly. “Who else is curious to know how the alien robots travel so quickly?”

     There was a quiet sigh throughout the compartment, and then most of the human occupants raised their hands.

     “Not sure how you’re going to find out,” Mrunal said. “It seems to me that that would likely be a kind of technology that they would not let us near.”

     “Maybe I’ll end up with a robot tech-head,” Eun said with a shrug.

     “You are way too blasé about this,” Nissim complained.

     “Oh, like the rest of you are quivering wrecks?” Eun retorted.

     “We volunteered,” Epps said. “We kind of had an idea of what we were getting into. Also, I’m pretty sure I could find something in the regulations that actually puts this in our job description.” There were nods and murmurs of assent from the other soldiers.

     “Which is not to say that I am unaffected,” Mrunal admitted after a few moments of silence. “But I— _we_ —have a job to do. We do not have the room to allow for ourselves to be stopped.”

     “But _you’re_ not a soldier,” Nissim said. “You should be freaking out way hard, lady.”

     Eun shrugged. “Perhaps my way of ‘freaking out’ is to retreat into science.” Her voice dropped slightly as she continued. “Screaming is not the only response to panic.”

     “…so you’re a super geek,” Nissim said.

     “Why do I not feel complimented by that?” Eun said, nudging Nissim with her foot.

     “You’re the cat,” Epps said, cutting off any remark Nissim could have made.

     “What?”

     “The cat,” Epps repeated. “You’re the cat. Curiosity may kill you in the end, but what you learn might be worth it. Right?”

     Eun grinned. “Right.”

     “Well, I think we found our code, then,” Mrunal said.

     “What?” Nissim asked, sitting up.

     “The identifying code for once the network is up?” Eun asked.

     “Yeah,” Mrunal said. “Curiosity may have killed the cat—” he began.

     “But satisfaction brought it back,” Epps finished.

     Silence settled. Then—

     “I hope this works.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just kind of a heads up: no, I'm not going to go into intricate detail of the human operations plan on infiltrating the Cybertronian organics trade. That's just not the focus of this story. Stuff will be mentioned, yeah, but... the focus isn't on the mechanics of the resistance.
> 
> ALSO! It was brought to my attention -- early on, when I first posted this fic here -- that there is another, very similar fic: "Property Of", on FF.Net, by another author. I admit, I went and read it after it had been brought up. Y'all, it's amazing. Oh my goodness. It's also incomplete. Alas!
> 
> I'm... not sure what my original point was in bringing up that fic, but. It exists, it's awesome, it's unfinished, and I swear I didn't start "O, Licentia!" as a knock-off.


End file.
